the good old days

“Is that ‘matchless’ as in, can’t be matched, or as in, doesn’t match?”

via Found in Mom’s Basement

Silly science experiments from years past…

The plan for Kellogg’s experiment was outlined in a Psychological Review (1931b) article in which he wrote:

Suppose an anthropoid were taken into a typical human family at the day of birth and reared as a child. Suppose he were fed upon a bottle, clothed, washed, bathed, fondled, and given a characteristically human environment; that he were spoken to like the human infant from the moment of parturition; that he had an adopted human mother and an adopted human father…. The experimental situation par excellence should indeed be attained if this technique were refined one step farther by adopting such a baby ape into a human family with one child of approximately the ape’s age.

Now, this is an interesting experiment to read about, both because of its motivations and theories, and because of its results. But there’s footage available from archive.org, too!

Orange Park, Florida, 1931-1932

This is one of a series of five films which present comparisons of a normal human infant and his chimpanzee companion, who were reared together in a strictly human environment for a period of 9 months. Both were given comparable treatment, being fed, dressed, punished, and spoken to like children of the same family. Both slept in similar beds and had similar playthings.

THroughout the 9 months various test and comparisons were made, as well as general observations. In this film we see comparisons of the two subjects during the first 4-1/2 months of the investigation.

I was almost falling out of my chair during the “cap on head” test.

I’m curious about one thing. From the FSU description:

Our final concern is why the project ended when it did. Time magazine’s review (”Babe and Ape,” 1933) said the following:

At the end of nine months the Kelloggs demonstrated that environment, particularly psychological environment, is necessary for the development of an individual’s inherent abilities. Gua, treated as a human child, behaved like a human child except when the structure of her body and brain prevented her. This being shown, the experiment was discontinued. (p. 44)

However, Time’s reason, while plausible, is not explicit in the book. Nor is a reason given in two articles that Kellogg would write about the subject toward the end of his career (1968a, 1968b). We are told only that the study was terminated on March 28, 1932, when Gua was returned to the Orange Park primate colony through a gradual rehabilitating process.

According to the book Elephants On Acid, however, the Kelloggs decided to end the experiment when Donald starting imitating Gua’s vocalizations (barks and grunts) instead of using words to express himself. There’s no attribution, so it could be speculation or it could be from interviews from people involved. I don’t know.

Every now and then, you’ll get a present which is incredibly well-suited to you that you didn’t even know existed previously. Such things are a rare treat; last year, I was given Old-Time Brand-Name Cookbook: Recipes, Illustrations, And Advice From The Early Kitchens Of America’s Most Trusted Food Makers. It’s a cookbook of nothing but retro recipes — and they’re all good! (Luckily, I know Buzz well enough to feel sure this wasn’t just his way of saying, “here’s a bunch of retro recipes that don’t involve jellied hot dogs, please make these.”)

My favorite part of the book was the introduction, a dozen pages describing the evolution of food, cooking, and kitchens throughout the last century. The combined forces of commercially processed food and evolving kitchen appliances (the refrigerator in particular) completely overhauled what people ate, and how meals were made. This change was also strongly correlated with the decrease of people with domestic servants (you don’t need to hire a cook to stick a TV dinner in the oven), and also an increase in options for women outside the home. And, corporate advertising began to aggressively convince the world that their products were vital to delicious, quick, and inexpensive meals for the family. There are certainly many books worth of material which could be explored, but Old-Time Brand-Name Cookbook does an excellent job of covering the topics without boring the amateur.

I also learned why gelatin dishes were so widespread, and incorporated into practically every course. We’ve all wondered what the hell could motivate someone to create Jellied Bouillon with Frankfurters — well, it was simply so they could brag about owning a refrigerator. You can’t solidify gelatin without refrigeration, and so you couldn’t serve Jellied Bouillon with Frankfurters unless you were above a certain income level. (For some of the more dubious recipes, it presumably also helped if you didn’t have any friends, because you certainly wouldn’t after you fed them THAT.) So people started jellying vegetables, meats, salads, cream, and pretty much everything in their kitchen.

All the recipes are “adapted”, often to remove brand names but in some cases to change the quantities of ingredients. The “Hungarian Gulasch (As Prepared by the Hungarian Shepherds)”, for example, calls for 1 tablespoon paprika (still fairly mild) rather than the skimpy 1/4 teaspoon of the original recipe. (The point is frequently made that early American tastebuds were not really able to handle spice at all.) Even with adjustment, you may not like a recipe; we found the Bread Pudding recipe to be somewhat lacking in pizazz, but that’s not really atypical for very basic bread pudding. Like any cookbook, you have to cook the recipes before you can really judge them.

For additional fun, the cookbook is illustrated with vintage images from recipe pamphlets throughout the ages. Occasionally this is a little odd, when a recipe for one salad is illustrated with an obviously very different salad; however, such discrepancies are rare distractions, and the vintage illustrations are mostly very entertaining. I have resolved to be on the lookout for recipe pamphlets in antique stores to get similar pictures for use on here

I would strongly recommend this for anyone interested in cooking, particularly if you have a fondness for ephemera or vintage cooking. It’s fascinating to see the evolution of America’s attitude towards and expectations from food; historical perspective with snacks included.

I have to confess: yesterday’s post about bread pudding was rather rushed. And since bread pudding is one of Buzz’s favorite dessert-breakfast foods, I think he was rather hurt that it didn’t get more attention. So this is something of an apology to him as well as an addendum.

Firstly, the source of the recipe is important. For the holidays, Buzz got me an incredible cookbook: The Old-Time Brand-Name Cookbook, a collection of vintage recipes from pamphlets put out by food (or appliance) companies to advertise their goods. It is ideal for a hobbyist chef and retro enthusiast like me, and I’ll give a full review of it tomorrow. (Spoiler alert: I highly recommend it.)

I used the recipe for Bread Pudding yesterday; its original source, per the book, is “Be an Artist at the Gas Range” from 1935. Maybe it was a bit bland because I used an electric oven rather than a gas range…

Secondly, a discussion of bread pudding itself. As it’s a favorite of his, Buzz loves to make bread pudding, and therefore has some serious opinions about the best recipes. The “Gas Range” recipe has a standard amount of milk (2 cups), but fewer eggs and less butter and even less sugar. While it’s still rich and tasty, it’s not as good as it could be with additional fat.

This is rather cheating; bread pudding, while certainly an old recipe, isn’t one that has very much fallen out of favor. But it’s my category and I will do what I like. And I like bread pudding.

I first encountered bread pudding at an upscale breakfast buffet in Cincinnati. I was only eight at the time, so my idea of “pudding” was “Jell-O, preferably chocolate” — the idea of pudding that tasted like bread wasn’t very appealing. Its appearance wasn’t inspiring, either. As an adult, I kick myself for that, because I would have adored the soft, sweet conglomeration that bread pudding truly is.

One thing Buzz observed as we cooked this was that it’s a lot like stuffing. You take dry bread crumbs (or chunks) which are otherwise inedible, mix them with spices and liquid, bake for a while; you end up with a delicious soft bread. The difference between the two dishes is that bread pudding is sweet where stuffing is savory; instead of chicken stock, you add custard.

Mix together 2 cups milk, 1/4 cup sugar, 2 eggs, 1/2 tsp vanilla, 1/4 tsp salt, and 1/2 tsp each of cinnamon and nutmeg. Cut (or tear) old bread into chunks until you have 2-3 cups worth. Challah makes this absolutely amazing, but any nice white bread will do.

Let bread chunks soak up the milk and eggs for about 10 minutes, then stir it around some more.

Bake at 350°F for 45-60 minutes, until the top is lightly browned. This is when my younger self would be underwhelmed.

Trust me — the taste is better than the unimpressive appearance! The preparation is simple, and you can create variations such as adding raisins or other fruit into the mix, because if you have fruit it cancels out all those fat and sugar calories… doesn’t it?

TRON is the story of Kevin Flynn, a rogue computer programmer who gets pulled into the digital world he helped create.  There he meets other programs, written by his friends and enemies, in a world controlled by the sinister Master Control Program.  Together with TRON, the electronic creation of Flynn’s sometime romantic rival Alan Bradley, he goes after the MCP.

I remember a time in the mid-1980s, when TRON was (after Star Wars) the most popular piece of science fiction entertainment around.  And while Kevin Flynn does not enjoy the universal name recognition of Luke Skywalker, there are still many references to TRON in the popular culture.  I was surprised to see a commercial released in 2006 featuring the distinctive imagery and odd color scheme of the film.  To a younger friend of mine who didn’t recognize the commercial as a direct allusion to TRON, it simply evoked an impression of being being “electronic,” because the style of the movie is now so closely associated with computing in our cultural consciousness.

You might worry that TRON won’t have aged well, but it stands up pretty nicely.  Computer animation has come a long way, to the point where companies can animate nearly photo-realistic human faces.  TRON took computer animation in another direction.  Since computer graphics couldn’t be used to produce anything even approaching reality, the filmmakers used them to produce a completely alien world, and they did a marvelous job.  Actually, most of the movie’s animation was done conventionally, with a legion of cel painters, who worked to match the computer animation style.  Partially, this was done as a matter of necessity; the world didn’t have the manpower needed to animate everything digitally; essentially every electronic animation company in America was employed in the making of TRON.  I don’t know whether they also preferred to have some ordinary animation included for stylistic reasons, but looking at the film now, it was definitely the right decision.  The one real weakness of the computer graphics is its paucity of detail.  There are great, broad surfaces which are perfectly smooth.  It’s a nice effect, in moderation, but the scenes that are completely computer animated get to look rather plain and boring if they aren’t broken up with other formats now and then.  The conventional animation is very nice in that it’s often hardly noticeable as animation.  The live action scenes inside the computer were filmed in black and white on stark black sets; all the color—the off flesh tones of the programs and the buzzing circuits on the walls—was painted in by hand.  And despite the generally seamless integration, there are no scenes that contain both live action and computer animation.

This film is noteworthy in that it has two essentially co-equal heroes:  Flynn and TRON.  Flynn is the viewpoint character—the human transported in the electronic world—and he saves the day several times.  But the real action hero is the security program, TRON.  In the real world, TRON is capable of halting the execution of any program that is communicating outside the system without proper authorization.  Inside the mainframe, he’s a somber superhero, blasting away his enemies with his energized code disc.  (For whatever reason, I always found Bruce Boxleitner’s line as TRON receives his final code update from his programmer Alan—also played by Boxleitner—”This the key to a new order.  This code disc means freedom!” particularly affecting.  I can’t have been alone in my reaction to that scene, since the corresponding image of TRON holding his disc aloft was used extensively in the film’s promotional materials).

After the computer graphics, the film’s greatest innovation was the way the actors were used.  Each of the key members of the cast (and a few minor members as well) plays two roles.  They each play a programmer in the real world and “on the other side of the screen,” a program the first character wrote.  In TRON’s case especially, the program seems to be a better version of his creator—as if Alan Bradley had imbued his greatest achievement with only the purest extract of his own essence.  In reality, we expect any complicated piece of software to reflect some of the idiosyncrasies of its’ creator, but TRON takes that to another level.

Boxleitner’s dual performance is impressive.  Jeff Bridges as Flynn (and KLU) is interesting, but he has always seemed more energetic and physical than his part called for.  He certainly doesn’t come off as a stereotypically nerd.  David Warner, as the villains, does very well.  All three of his characters—Ed Dillinger, command program SARC, and the dreaded Master Control Program—are clearly driven by, more than anything else, fear.  It’s very interesting when, during the climactic encounter, after TRON has dispatched SARC, the MCP reveals its raw and pathetic terror.  Unlike the other programs, the MCP is not human enough to seem worthy of my pity, but that may make the scene more effective, since the huge, inhuman, ultimate evil (who has made even its human creator its servant) is finally revealed as weak, petty, and small.

Supposedly, there’s going to be a sequel to TRON coming out in 2011.  Personally, I think making a sequel is probably a mistake.  The original film is so iconic; adding a new chapter would be very difficult.  I also can’t see how the could replicate the distinctive look of the original with today’s computer graphics.  I may have criticized the sometime lack of detail, but adding textures to every surface will merely make it seem disconnected from the original.

This isn’t the muppets, but we don’t have a category for Monday Morning Morgan Freeman—which is just as well, since it isn’t Monday.

For the holidays, my mother got my daughter DVDs of The Electric Company, with a reminder of how much I loved the show as a child.  It was my favorite TV show for a while; I was especially fond of their occasional parodies of the Six Milion Dollar Man (their cyborg was worth only $6.39).  However, this was my all-time favorite bit from the show.

Rotating fridge shelves!

This would be incredibly useful! It would prevent (or at least reduce) the large numbers of small containers which tend to get pushed to the back of the fridge, accumulating into a vast pile of really-shouldn’t-eat-this leftovers.

However, I can also picture Daughter and Son standing in front of the fridge, spinning the shelves and looking for goodies while I yell at them for pointlessly raising the electric bill…

image excerpted from larger ad, via Found in Mom’s Basement

The Thing is, in my view, one of the ten best science fiction films ever made.  The reason for this is that it has a truly sophisticated science fiction plot.  There are many movies where human heroes face off against terrifying and/or horrifying aliens, but few tap into human emotions as basic as those in The Thing.  The movie tells the story of a band of antarctic researchers, who face off against a shape-shifting, all-devouring alien—the modern incarnation of the Wendigo.

The Wendigo is a moster from Algonquin folklore.  Every prescientific culture had its bogeymen.  Some were inhuman ogres, like the Wendigo or vampires in the Balkans.  Other groups, such as the Azande or the Fore, recognized only human sorcery.  These bugbears had some general characteristics, as they were invoked to frighten unruly children, but each typically also personified some of the very particular fears of its native culture.  Life for the Algonquins was hard, especially during the colder months.  Although food was plentiful in the northern Great Lakes region in summer and fall, the bands often found themselves hard pressed in winter.  But their greatest cultural fear was not of death from starvation or exposure, but from cannibalism.  The Canadian wastes were harsh and uncaring, but the very amorality of Nature made them less horrible than the men who might, under conditions of privation, become beasts.

The Wendigo was the spirit of the cold lands and of cannibalism.  A hunter who turned on his comrades for food was believed to have glimpsed the monster and come under its spell.  The Thing translates this primordial fear into modern language—the villain is an alien instead of a malignant tundra spirit—but the basic situation, of a small group of men cut off from the world, battling against something that can take them over and force them to devour their companions, is the same.  To better capture this atavistic fear may have been the reason that the film was given an entirely male cast.

The cast is generally good.  Aside from Kurt Russell, the denizens of the antarctic outpost are played by a crop of familiar yet not distracting character actors.  They display a natural range of responses to the crisis they face, some portrayed with more skill and diversity than others.  Wilford Brimley manages to be effective as everything from earnest scientific investigator, to dotty old man, to horror that has no name.  In some ways, Russell, as the star, may be the weakest character—not because he isn’t believable, but because he seems too much like the “designated hero.”

The only other film I can think of that is comparable to The Thing is Alien.  In fact, the success of Alien got people interested in re-making The Thing From Another World, which was a pretty good alien invasion movie, but the producers felt the 1951 audiences wouldn’t appreciate the sophisticated science fiction storyline of “Who Goes There,” the novella on which the movies were based.  So the original film lacked the story’s main plot element, which the 1982 re-make restored.  What Alien and The Thing have in common is that they capitalize on different but equally primordial human fears.  And what makes the two movies so scary is that these archetypal fears manifest themselves through creatures that are utterly alien.  Their malevolence can be part of their essential makeup, because they are so emphatically inhuman.

At this point, I still haven’t said that much about the film.  I have to admit, I hesitate to give things about this film away.  The Thing may be one of the scariest films every made, and I still remember seeing it for the first time, when I was five.  (That’s right, I was five years old.  I won’t show the movie to my daughter until she’s at least ten, but I never scared easily.  Even so, The Thing was one of only two films that ever gave me nighmares.  Yet I’m glad my parents took me to see it at the drive-in.)  The film has surprise after surprise, and some of its twists are among the most memorable movies elements I’ve ever seen.

One of the things I will talk about is the special effects.  The alien models are truly disgusting, red and brown and dripping with slime.  Some of the scenes still make me queasy.  And everything, except for some matte paintings was done at full size, in the studio.  This lends the effects a gritty realism that might otherwise be lacking in a film with such an exotic story.  There is deleted model shot on the DVD version; it was to be part of the final confrontation between Russell’s McReady and the the Thing.  It ended up not getting used, because it wasn’t deemed to be up to snuff.  I agree with that decision, but I wish they had been able to animate a slightly better model, becuase it really would have added to the climax.